If it were possible, he would have smiled. She might be trash, but she would serve him.
Three nights later, Eleisha stood between Wade and Philip in northwest Portland as they all gazed upward.
"You've got to be joking," Wade said in disbelief. "A church? Can you step inside?"
Philip didn't say anything.
Surprised that Wade would even entertain such old superstitions or trepidation about holy ground, Eleisha glanced over at him. "Of course we can. Don't be ridiculous."
Although both men had tried to pry hints from her, she'd refused to say a word about their destination, and after leaving the airport, she'd simply handed the taxi driver an address. She had seen this building only in photos, but standing in the churchyard, with the night-blooming roses winding up the tall, wrought-iron fence, she knew they had come to the right place.
The church was two stories high, constructed of red brick.
It looked like a haven.
She pulled the gate shut behind them and latched it. Then she fished a set of keys from her bag. "Let's look inside. It's been empty for a long time."
Wade's astonishment grew. "You've got the keys? Why isn't the real estate agent meeting us here?"
"I talked her into… Just come inside. I'll tell you everything."
"Eleisha," he insisted. "Agents don't give potential buyers the keys."
She ignored him and hurried up the steps to unlock the front doors, which were newer additions made from thick metal.
Philip stopped briefly to examine the doors. She looked back at him, and he nodded.
She turned on the overhead lights. "The deacons' committee decided to leave the power on so any buyers could see that all the wiring works."
They stepped into what had once been the main sanctuary, but now the altar was bare and all the pews had been ripped out, leaving only a large room with spiderwebs and a musty red and tan carpet. Half-oval stained-glass window lined the walls, and Eleisha turned in a circle to see each one, soothed by the greens, blues, and yellows in the depictions.
"This was built in 1902, and it's been on the market for over two years," she said. "The congregation outgrew it, and they commissioned a new church." She looked at Philip again. "The walls are two feet thick, and there are only two doorways on the ground floor to the outside: this front one we just came in and a single back door."
He still hadn't spoken, but again he nodded and began studying the structure of the high-set windows.
Wade came in only a few steps. "You aren't seriously thinking of buying this place? Of living here?"
"Just leave your suitcases and come this way," she said, dropping her bag and moving behind the altar to a side door. The door led into a hallway where she faced two other doors, a stairway to the left leading down, and another stairway at the end of the hall leading up. Eleisha had studied the floor plan for hours and knew the layout by heart. She turned on the hallway lights.
"These two rooms are offices," she said, opening the closest door.
Wade peered inside at a pleasant room with hardwood floors and cream walls.
"There's a three-bedroom apartment in the basement, along with an industrial-sized kitchen on the other side," she added.
For first time since walking through the gate, Wade turned and seemed to be seriously listening to her. "A three-bedroom apartment?"
"Yes, the place was designed so the pastor and his family could live inside the church. But come upstairs with me first."
Without waiting for a response, she walked down the hall and up the stairs, emerging into another hallway, this one with a red-and-tan carpet like the sanctuary's. Three doors lined each wall, and she flicked on the light and moved onward, opening doors as she went.
"Most of these were Sunday school or meeting rooms, but they're empty now. We could turn one of them into a room for Rose."
The moment those words left her mouth, she regretted them. Both Philip and Wade had agreed to come to Portland and see this mysterious «place» she had in mind, but so far, neither of them had expressed sharing her determination to find this woman who'd written asking for their help. And although she'd meant her outburst back at Maggie's, that she'd find Rose alone if need be… the truth was she wanted Philip and Wade to be part of all this.
Finding a proper safe house was the first step. But she needed to pull them in one step at a time.
Wade and Philip walked the floor, looking inside all six of the bare rooms. Neither one responded to her mention of Rose.
Finally Philip said, "Too many exterior windows. We'll have to seal most of them up."
Wade stared at him. "You're standing outside a Sunday school room, and that's all you can say? ‘Too many windows'? Have you missed the irony here?"
Philip shrugged and put his hand against the wall. "Old buildings are best. This is an йglise solide."
Eleisha had picked up enough French from him to know he'd called the place a sturdy church. Excitement began building inside her. He was clearly considering the idea. Regarding this part of her plan, though, she hadn't worried too much about convincing Philip. Spending four weeks at Maggie's was probably the longest stretch he'd stayed in one place in decades. Before becoming entangled with Eleisha, Philip had not been a cautious hunter-leaving bodies wherever he dropped them. And he'd hunted more often then he needed to, so he was constantly on the move. No, he would feel no hesitation to leave Maggie's. He didn't care where he lived as long as Eleisha and Wade lived with him.
Wade was a different story. He didn't like making decisions, and he was a big fan of "thinking things through"-which she viewed as a euphemism for sitting on the fence.
She nearly ran back to the stairs. "Come on. Let's see the basement."
Not waiting for them, she jumped off the bottom step into the hallway and jogged to the stairs leading down, emerging into a sitting room. Overhead lighting down here was more sparse, as the place must have contained lamps before. She moved to the apartment's small kitchen and switched on a light. Then she walked back into the sitting room.
Even dimly lit, the sitting room was lovely, with soft yellow walls and white molding around the floors and ceiling.
When she turned around, Wade and Philip were standing quietly behind her. "It only has one bathroom, but the bedrooms are over there," she said, pointing through an old-fashioned archway. "And there is a small family kitchen that way. The big congregation kitchen is on the far side of the building."
Wade cooked sometimes-when he didn't order pizza-and Eleisha and Philip sometimes made tea. They could not eat or digest food, but their kind could absorb tea and even small amounts of wine.
She stood tense, unable to read either of her companions. From the moment she had seen the photos, something about this place had called to her… as if calling her home. She felt safe here. Welcome. Wanted. Like the building had been abandoned for too long, and it needed them.
"What do you think?" she asked Philip.
"It's good," he said simply.
"Wade?"
He shook his head in frustration. "This is too big a decision to make right now. Shouldn't we look at other places? Shouldn't we take more time to consider?"
Was he trying to convince himself or her? If she chose to, she could allow a little of her gift to seep out, to seduce him, to make him see she felt safe here so that he would do anything for her. But she wouldn't do that. She wanted his true agreement.
"I don't want to go back to Seattle," she confessed, deciding to try honesty. "I don't want to go back to Maggie's. I don't want to look at any other places. This is the one, Wade."
He stepped closer, his white-blond hair falling forward into his eyes.